


Gunmetal

by trueblackhand



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (of the degrading variate), Aftercare, Boot Worship, Denial, Dom Gabriel, Dom/sub, Facials, Gunplay, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Fixation, Sub Jesse, dick stepping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 09:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trueblackhand/pseuds/trueblackhand
Summary: It starts with a conversation, as most things do."I want you to be mean to me.""Aren't I always?""No--" Jesse's tongue slides out to wet his lips, "likereally."





	Gunmetal

**Author's Note:**

> In which Gabe is mean to Jesse, _nicely._

Gabriel’s been keying him up for weeks now and Jesse’s fit to bursting. 

This  _ thing _ between them has be going on for a while. If it was just fucking that’d be one thing, but it’s not. 

Gabe kisses him all sweet, holds him, trains him, teaches him. He’s pretty sure they’re both aware their relationship is a whirlwind of bad ideas and a lack of self restraint, but somehow, inexplicably, it works. 

Gabriel plucked him out of the gutter, shined him up into something worthwhile. He's the first person in Jesse's train wreck of a life to treat him gentle, like he's something precious. Jesse’ll be damned if he lets all that go for something as tangential as  _ rules. _ Never was much good at those anyway. 

He’s got it bad, there’s no side stepping around it. 

He swells with pride every goddamn time Gabe ruffles his hair or leans to rumble a compliment against his ear. Gabriel had laughed the first time Jesse fluffed up after his big fingers had scratched through his hair.  _ ‘ _

_ Good shot, kid.’  _

The words ring in his ears, his knees feel weak at the thought.

It’d only progressed from there, every opportunity they’d had to stop, back off, they hadn’t. 

When they sparred Gabriel started purposefully pinning him down with his thighs, or with the hard line of his cock pressing up against Jesse’s ass. Desperately close to where he wanted it, chuckling low and rich when Jesse’s hips bucked back. You can bet that when Gabe finally invited him to his room Jesse had jumped and come to heel like a well trained dog. 

The sex is mind bending. Filthy, dirty, perfect. It’s like nothing Jesse’s had before, and Gabriel’s cock is exactly as thick and long as you’d expect, judging from the size of him. Six foot four, built like a steel wall of muscle. Yeah, he’s hung like a goddamn horse, and Jesse likes to take his sweet time to ride… 

He’s gotta stop that thought right there. It’s too late though, he’s already hard and straining against the buckle of his belt, sweat pricking down the back of his spine. 

When he reaches Gabriel’s door it slides open to greet him. His heart lodges in his throat. It means Gabe’s been waiting, watching for him coming. 

They’ve got a scene planned tonight, discussed, thought out, safewords in place, and one singular request that lingers on his mind. _ ‘Don’t tell me if they’re not loaded.’ _ Gabe had offered him a only a smile in response, and the same spark of anticipation shoots through him now as it had then.

The safety measures don’t entirely quiet his nerves, and Jesse’s pulse jackhammers in his neck, entwined with the ache in his cock and the thrill of excitement in the pit of his stomach. He can’t figure out where one emotion ends and the next begins. 

“Howdy, commander.” His voice is barely steady, but he gives Gabriel a wink and a nod as he steps into the room, tipping his hat before he takes it off. 

Gabriel’s leaning back against his desk, arms folded across his chest and Jesse’s gotta fucking wonder if he doesn’t know how he looks like that. His biceps bulge and stretch the fabric of his standard issue shirt, black tapering off into the tan of Gabriel’s skin. 

Without preamble, Gabe tells him; “Strip and get on your knees,  _ vaquero _ .” 

Jesse's stomach twists, something blazing hot igniting inside him, and he bites down the pitiful noise that wants to whistle out of him like steam. “Yessir.” 

He wants to be good, he does as he's told. Stashing his hat on the coffee table by the door, his fingers barely hesitate before he starts peeling off his clothes. 

Warmth floods his cheeks as he pulls his serape off, but it’s worth it when he hears Gabe’s breath hitch, coming to a stuttering halt before it resumes. He’s wearing his collar, padded leather with a single ring on the front, fixed tight against his neck where it had been previously hidden. His shirt and pants he tugs off quickly, not patient enough for a slow reveal. There’s only a flicker of the shame he used to feel present, Gabriel trained it out of him, taught him how to be good. He crosses the room once he’s fully bare, settling in front of his commander, then drops to his knees. 

It's an intimidating sight; Gabriel towering over him, face completely unreadable. He tries to hold onto the cheek and charm that usually come so easy, but it's like Gabe strips him deeper than skin. Nothing left but the need in him Jesse tries so hard to hide.  _ Should be used to it by now, _ Jesse thinks, letting his eyes wander. Gabe's already half hard, tenting the dark material of his pants. Jesse’s gaze flicks up, and he licks his lips, wondering for a second if Gabe wants his mouth. 

Something minute in Gabriel’s expression shifts, his umber eyes watching. “Put your hands behind your back, and press your head to the floor,” He says, and makes no move to touch. 

Jesse bites at the inside of his lip, and his body  _ throbs.  _ Thoughts of Gabe’s hands on him surge forward unbidden, Jesse knows the gun callouses on his fingers, the warmth of his skin, and how badly he wants it. His pulse thunders so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if someone could hear it on the other side of the base. This time he doesn’t give an affirmative, but he’s holding his breath as he tucks his knees up and lowers himself down. His forehead presses against the rough carpet, arms crossed at the small of his back, offering Gabe his complete submission.

Gabriel doesn’t speak, but Jesse can hear his clothes rustle as he moves. A steel toed boot nudges his head, and this time Jesse can’t contain his whimper, the rush of heat it sends straight to his groin is so intense. The boot digs under him, forcing his neck up a fraction. 

“Kiss it.” 

Jesse sucks in an unsteady breath, that _ voice. _ It’s the same one Gabe uses when they train, when he’s giving orders to misbehaving underlings, or issuing a  _ command  _ in the field. Heavy and weighted with authority, completely unquestionable, washing over him, shaping him to his will. 

Jesse’s reverent as he obeys, placing a chaste, closed lip kiss to Gabriel’s polished boot. He doesn’t look up, he hasn’t been told he’s allowed yet. 

“Like you mean it,  _ cabrón.”  _  Gabriel’s voice is as cutting as gravel on bare knees, but it’s a relief to hear it, settling something inside of him. Jesse’s shoulders go slack, his lips part, and he mouths at the leather, kissing deep and messy. The taste of it fills his throat and his world is balanced on a needle point, nothing but he and Gabe. The flat of his tongue drags over the toe, worshiping with vulgar, shameless lips, Jesse uncaring of the moans that bubble from his chest.

“Look at me.”

Gabriel speaks and Jesse follows. His tongue still out as he glances up, pink on black, his chin wet and Gabe’s boot below him, slick and shined with spit. He can see it glisten from the corner of his eye. “Yessir,” he murmurs, low and demure. 

He isn’t told  _ ‘good boy,’ _ isn’t given any gentle praise or a soft, affectionate look. Gabriel’s expression is schooled, passive, like he’s not asking Jesse to debase himself on his office floor. Jesse could believe he’s unaffected, if not for the outline of Gabe’s cock creating a hard, visible curve in the front of his pants. 

“You like licking my boots, mutt?” Gabriel asks, and Jesse’s choked noise is an answer in itself. “Does it get you hard?”

“Yes, Sir.” He says it properly this time, carefully enunciating every syllable. Gabriel  _ asked him a question.  _ The admission makes his cheeks flush and his cock twitch, a bead of slick dripping down his length and dirtying the floor. He’s sure he’ll be made to clean it later.

“Pathetic.” Gabriel taps his boot against Jesse’s cheek, resting it up on his heel and baring the treaded underside. “These better be clean by the time you’re done.”

Jesse doesn’t think, he’s already flicking his tongue out, doing as Gabe says without question. “Yessir,” his answer is slurred, his lips more occupied with the sole of Gabriel’s boot. He licks and kisses and groans, squeezing his thighs together at how his cock aches between them. His focus narrows down, until all that remains is him, the task Gabe set for him, and the throbbing pulse of need that thrums through his veins like quicksilver. 

Desperate sounds he can’t contain spill freely from Jesse’s lips. Gabriel doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even acknowledge him, just shifts and offers his other foot to Jesse’s willing mouth. Jesse goes without complaint, barely noticing the change, he kisses the toe, the heel, and digs his tongue into the grooves on the bottom. All he can taste is leather and all he can think is Gabe, everything else is a cotton white haze in the back of his mind.

His lips are swollen by the time Gabriel pries him off, putting a boot to his shoulder and pushing him up onto his knees. Jesse watches vacantly, awaiting command, his breath coming in a short, staccato rhythm. 

Gabriel’s hand is on his holster, drawing out one of those massive shotguns and leveling it at him. Fear spikes through Jesse, visceral, hot tar on his skin, and he shudders, his cock jumping to attention.  _ He doesn’t know if it’s loaded.  _ There’s no safety on Gabe’s guns, and one of those thick, tan fingers rests on the trigger. He could die, his entire life rests in the palm of Gabe’s hands. 

Some nameless, nebulous emotion overrides him, and Jesse gazes on as Gabriel’s eyes fill with a dark fire. The look is piercing, smoldering through him. Neither of them blink, and Jesse doesn’t buckle.

A moment of quiet understanding passes between them. 

“Please, Sir.” He leans forward and touches his lips to the muzzle, tongue tracing the edge of the barrel. Finally,  _ finally,  _ Gabriel shivers. 

“You wanna know something, kid,” Gabe’s voice is smoke and silk, worming its way into his head. Gabriel tilts his gun for Jesse’s questing mouth, letting him reach it better. “I think you like the danger.” It’s not a question or an order, so Jesse does nothing but groan his acknowledgement. “I think you like fucking your commander, and I think you like having my gun in your mouth, knowing I could snuff you out like a light.”

The breath Jesse draws in is shaky, bordering on a sob. Gabe’s right, he’s always right, seeing through him like he’s made of glass. Gabe hasn’t even touched him and his skin feels raw, flayed from the inside out, his deepest, darkest wants on display. His eyes prick at the corners, his cheek nudges against the barrel of the gun, and Jesse turns his head to suckle at the weapon. He shows it the same deference he gave Gabriel’s boots, only messier now, less coordinated. Everything is blurred, confusing, he wants Gabe to touch him. 

But he doesn’t. 

Even as the gun pulls away and Jesse’s left wanting, Gabriel doesn’t. Those wide, square palms reach for the buttons on his cargo pants instead, pulling them apart and drawing his cock free. It’s close enough to his face Jesse can feel the heat rising from Gabriel’s swollen, overripe flesh. He wants nothing more than to seal his lips around the thick head and suckle Gabe to his end. 

“Don’t.” 

Jesse whines with the realisation he’s been leaning forward, too eager to get his mouth on that cock, to lick at the slick pearling at the tip and roll it over his tongue. 

“You think I’d let a mutt like you touch me?” Gabriel sneers and Jesse’s cheeks flush deeper. 

“No, Sir.” 

“That’s right,” taking himself in hand, Gabe thumbs at the thick ring through the crown, “you’ll be lucky if I let you taste my come.” 

Jesse’s lips part, his own cock throbbing in sympathetic need. 

Gabe works quickly, Jesse can recognise the twist and flick of his hand, he’s close. His eyes slip closed and Jesse pants open mouthed, tongue out stretched, waiting to be used. He aches for Gabriel’s hand to fist in his hair, hold him still while he spills, but it never comes. Only hot, thick ropes of seed touch his cheek, trickle down into his mouth, paint over his chest, then he’s blinking dazed, staring up at Gabriel’s face. Chasing the taste, Jesse licks at his lips and watches Gabe shudder. 

Need permeates the marrow of his bones, a low, wounded noise punctured out of him at Gabriel’s release. Marked and claimed down to his toes. “I--” Jesse stutters, his throat closing up, stealing his words, “please, Sir.” 

“Oh?” Gabriel’s voice lilts in question, as though Jesse should be satisfied already, like this is all he’s earned, pointedly not looking at him as he tucks himself away. “What is it  _ boy, _ you want to come?” 

He nods mutely for a second before he can find his words. “Yes, Sir.” 

At first Gabe says nothing, shifting and putting one of his feet forward, the leather still shiny in places, reflecting in the low light. “Rut like the dog you are.” 

It tears a sob from his throat, his vision blurring. “Th-thank you,” he barely manages to breath out, “thank you, Sir.” 

Gabriel doesn’t answer him and that hurts too, but he moves as if puppeteered, knees sliding either side of Gabe’s boot. Before he can sink down Gabriel’s heel turns, then that same boot is pressing his cock up against his stomach, the hard tread of the underside unforgiving, digging into his delicate, oversensitive skin. It still feels good, so good Jesse’s not sure if he wants to cry or if he could come right then. “Sir?” he asks, his voice wavering, uncertain. 

“What are you waiting for, I’m not staying here all day,  _ cabrón.”  _

His cock tries to jump where it’s squeezed between Gabriel’s boot and the flat of his abdomen. “O-okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than Gabriel, who’s watching him with an undivided focus, the weight of his gaze a tangible presence.  _ “Fuck.” _ The word is bitten out with the first roll of Jesse’s hips, his head bowing down, breaking the stare weighing heavy upon him, his eyes fluttering shut. It’s uncomfortable, too much, his shuddering body trying to grind up on Gabe like this. 

Gabriel shifts, the rim of his boot nudging the glans of Jesse’s cock as he moves. Tears begin to well under Jesse’s eyelids, and he ruts harder, desperate little presses of his hips until he feels a tug on his collar, pulling his head up with some force. He refuses to open his eyes, even if he whimpers at the closest thing to a  _ touch  _ he’s gotten all night. The boot tilts and sets against the floor, leaving Jesse free to fuck himself against the smooth leather and ridged laces, drawing breath in short, broken heaves. 

In that split second there’s the barest shard of sensation, the feeling of fingers on the back of his head, sliding through his hair. Jesse’s so lost, so far gone he can’t tell if it’s real, but it’s what he needs. 

A static buzz fills his senses, his world seen through a shattered pane of glass, doused with an unnatural glow. His cock pulses, the first few tears trickle down the sides of his face. 

He spills over the slick leather with a pained, gutted moan. 

The only thing that keeps him in place is the grip on the collar around his neck, anchoring him, tying him to Gabe as his hips jerk and he sobs through his peak.

“Gabe--  _ Sir.” _ It’s all he can manage, everything seems far away. 

Jesse doesn’t even need to be instructed, Gabriel releases his hold, and he sinks back to the floor. He rubs his face to the side of Gabe’s boot, and laps up the sticky mix of come. Saliva drips down his chin, the noises he makes are wet and sloppy, sniffling as the tears fall harder and faster. He’d forgotten about his hands, unbound and held willingly behind his back, Gabe’s command more binding than any restraints. Still, he makes no move to shift, his shoulders going slack, his head pressed against the toe of Gabriel’s boot, quivering all over. 

“Jesse…” His name is gentle on Gabriel’s lips, fabric rustles and warm hands smooth over the cold, bare flesh of his back. Jesse flinches instinctively for a second, before keening high in the back of his throat, his shivering growing more forceful until his entire body trembles. “Easy now,  _ cariño, _ you can relax.” 

“Gabe,” he repeats, finding himself scooped into a pair of strong arms, his face tucked against the crook of Gabriel’s neck. So warm and good, touching him finally. His awareness is fuzzy, hedged in red and white at the edges, but he’s gathered in Gabe’s lap, something warm and soft tucked around his shoulders. 

The noise he lets out is choked. Gabriel’s fingers carding through his hair, lancing through him like a lightning strike, exactly what he’d wanted. 

His muscles ache in a phantom pain, feeling stripped clean to the bone, and Jesse’s hardly aware of the sobs that still rack through him. He can hear them distantly, along with Gabriel’s tender voice, whispering low, rough Spanish against the shell of his ear. 

Gradually, he comes back to himself, the too sharp edge to his psyche bleeding away into something softer. 

The shaking stops. 

Jesse lets it all go with a sigh, mouthing at the firm curve of Gabe’s throat, nuzzling at his skin, breathing in the scent of some deep, masculine spice that’s so uniquely Gabe it feels imprinted on his soul. 

“There you are,” Gabriel’s palms shift to cup his face, holding his head in those big hands. “How you doing, niño?” 

The smile that splits Jesse’s lips is a genuine one. He’s wrecked, utterly debauched without Gabriel even having to lay a finger on him, shuddering and overstimulated from a lack of touch. “M’doin’ real good, jefe.” His drawl comes thicker when he’s like this, almost slurring his words together, though Gabe’s expression goes soft in answer all the same. 

“Good,” Gabriel leans and kisses his lips, sweet, bordering on chaste.

“What about you?” Jesse asks, putting a hand over the one Gabriel has holding his cheek. “You were pretty mean to me.” Even through the copper brown of Gabe’s skin Jesse can see his cheeks redden, the shift in hue only noticeable from how close their faces are.

“I was,” there’s a note of satisfaction there, purring in the bass of Gabe’s voice, “I-- I’m good, Jesse--” he moves to pluck some wipes from the draw of his desk, and begins cleaning Jesse off. “You’re something else, kid.” 

“I know.” Jesse gives him a bleary eyed wink, grin still teasing the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t be a brat.” 

“Or what?” 

“You  _ know  _ what.” 

The tone in Gabriel’s voice sends a pleasant shiver of heat through him, and he wraps his arms around Gabe’s thick neck before falling still again. “Yes,  _ Sir,” _ he teases just for the way it makes something bright spark in Gabriel’s eyes. “Hey Gabe--” 

“Yeah?” 

“Were the guns loaded?” 

Gabriel mutters something under his breath, Spanish too fast for Jesse to make out, then Gabriel’s forefinger is pressed squarely in the middle of his forehead. “You really are a dumbass if you think I’m going to level a loaded shotgun at your head, Jesse.” 

It pulls a soft chuckle out of him, grinning up at Gabe, loose limbed and feeling indescribably safe in his arms. “Alright alright,” he concedes, “hey, Gabe--” 

“Mhm?” 

“Take me back to your room.” 

Gabe shakes his head, giving him one of those small, rarely seen smiles. 

“You got it, kid.” 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I know I glossed some of the more boring/repetitive aspects of safe kink over, but I did want to write a psychologically heavy scene with solid aftercare, at least a mention of safewords/negotiation, and these boys taking care of each other, 'cause I don't see it too often for McReyes. Which is fine, but I wanted to add something equal parts kinky, intense, and wholesome. I hope I've succeeded.
> 
> Feed me your comments, they're how I sustain myself.  
> And if you fancy, you can come find me on tumblr @ [trueblackhand](https://trueblackhand.tumblr.com/) ♥


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